Foeseeker Javelin
by Mariel Gullwhacker
Summary: Two squirrels, playing together. The male is perhaps two seasons older, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that before they are fifteen seasons older, their lives will have fallen apart...


Foeseeker Javelin

Foeseeker Javelin

The two squirrels were tall and strong. Looking at them from a distance, you would never believe they were related, but when they came closer, in spite of their fur being different colours, they were unmistakably brother and sister.

The squirrelmaid jumped on her brother's back. He shook her off, laughing, while she pretended to sulk and leapt up into the treetops. It was a perfect family tableau.

As the seasons withered and died, the tableau grew more dignified, and the actors became older. The squirrelmaid had a fiery nature, she would never bend under to a tyrant's whip, she was not only noticeable for that and her other qualities, but for her startling black fur. The contrast to the other squirrels in the village was conspicuous, but she enjoyed the feeling of individuality she got from it.

Her brother, on the other hand, was a few seasons the elder, wiser and quieter than his rebellious sister. He had married, with a son, and even though the young one looked as if he bottled up his feelings like himself, it was obvious that he took after his aunt, in personality if not in looks.

*

The squirrelmaid was alone on the shore. The village was some way away, and besides, no one in their right minds would come down there when the winds were blowing in corsairs' favour. That meant when the breeze was propelling vermin ships towards land.

Everyone else had probably retreated inside, she thought with scorn. She herself loved the wind. A pity it wasn't a gale.

Ranguvar Foeseeker was foolish. Even when she saw the blood-red ship sailing towards her, she didn't turn and run back to the village to warn the tribe. She stood, rooted to the spot, as corsairs leapt over the side of their ship.

She only acted when they grabbed her, and by then it was far too late. Ranguvar bit and scratched, kicking the corsairs with her powerful footpaws, but to no avail. Howling, they carried her on board and flung her down into the hold with the other oarslaves.

*

It was said that her brother blamed himself for her disappearance. No one knew, but his quiet nature became silent, and though he opened out to his gentle wife, nobody could extract his words from her. It was a great sorrow to all the village when she died. Ranguvar had not been so missed, adventurous and intense as she had been.

The squirrel drew completely into himself, and none of that village ever knew if he had ever become the sort of creature he used to have been. Not even his son knew, not having known his father, not really, before the tragedies had overtaken them.

Why? Because a season later, when young Felldoh had gone down to the shore with his father, while the young one was playing with a javelin, he had been captured, along with Barkjon. It had been an almost exact replay of Ranguvar's kidnap. Only this time they were forced to build a fortress for their slaver…Marshank…

** __________________________________________________________**

A/N: This is the story of Felldoh and Barkjon from Martin The Warrior and Ranguvar Foeseeker, from The Legend Of Luke, as if you hadn't guessed from the fact that they're named. Romsca asked me to write a story in which Ranguvar and Felldoh are related, and this is it – dedicated to her.

If anyone's interested, _Castaways Of The Flying Dutchman _is a great book, and as Ember Trillwind said in the RWOnline review of it, _Castaways_ has talking animals, oceanic adventures, and riddles, so if anyone has been put off by the fact that it isn't Redwall, fear not. It's just as good.

I'm taking advantage – or trying to – of the fact that I have an almost completely new computer. Apart from a few leads and the speakers, there is absolutely nothing left of the computer I wrote _Northland Fighters_ and _Anywhere Is_ on. It's got a new monitor, new motherboard and a new cover for _that_, and a new printer. It'd be quicker to say what there is left.

The title comes from a mixture of Felldoh and Ranguvar – Foeseeker, and Felldoh always seemed to use javelins in _Martin The Warrior_.

Mariel Gullwhacker.


End file.
